


Soft Spring Blossoms

by Aithilin



Series: Festive Food Fluffs [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 16:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14500926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: There was a tradition of flower-viewing in Insomnia. Nyx much prefers the more intimate picnic idea that Noctis had planned instead.





	Soft Spring Blossoms

There was an ancient wisteria tree in the heart of Insomnia. Nyx had heard about it every spring since he got to the city. It wasn’t as old as the trees back home— Libertus was always the first one to point that out— and it was carefully cultivated and tended to be at its most beautiful for only a handful of weeks in the year, when the courtyard in the Citadel gardens that housed it was open to the public. Nyx had seen it plenty of times; heard the creaking of its limbs in the wind as the heavy branches threatened to topple over the carefully placed and secured poles that kept the tired limbs from breaking. He had seen the blossoms plenty of times in his rounds and duties, and twice as a tourist with the rabble to see what the fuss was about. He had caught glimpses of the damned tree in snatches of news grabbed between shift at the headquarters, reports and speeches and diplomatic missives sent from the peace and prosperity of the royal gardens when the season struck. 

And the garden doors being opened to the public meant that spring had arrived. 

Nyx knew the traditions well, even though he wasn’t a Lucian. Even though he had only really experienced the idyllic version the Lucians preferred as an outsider to the whole thing. With Libertus at his side, reminding him of the days spent out beneath the spring and summer blossoms back home— the picnics spent in the fragrant shade, with drinks shared between them as they plotted their lives among the lush landscape that had bred them both. 

He remembered it as some some of daily ritual. Not the art form the Lucians had created. Laughing as the blossoms fell around them, rather than sitting an analysing the way they grew. 

Rather than waxing poetic about the way the flowers would fade. 

When Noctis invited him to go view the flowers, he had expected a long walk through the royal gardens after they were closed. Strolling the narrow pathways, lit by delicately crafted lanterns for the season, as the lights woven through the blossoming branches spread the ethereal hues of pinks and purples across the dreary solidity of the Citadel walls. He expected the little tea tables that were spread across the small courtyards to be lit with contained flames, laden with festive foods, where they would sit together to watch the Wall shimmer overhead and the petals fall. Of avenues of cherry and plum and whatever other kinds of blossoms the gardens housed, the careful pathways kept clear of the unsightly grasses and flowers that were housed elsewhere in the Citadel grounds— separated from the trees of the orchard that never seemed to bear fruit. 

He had expected a solemn Lucian date. An evening spent in careful quiet, as Noctis shyly led him along the walkways that seemed expected of them both. 

What Nyx did not expect was to be given an address a stone’s throw from the docks. To one of the parks that overlooked the bustling merchants’ plazas, as the spring hauls were set out on display and the markets opened to the salt air of the waters that guarded a portion of the city. Where the remnants of morning markets were sold at a loss, just to clear the booths, and the evening markets started heating up grills and games like a festival plaza. He didn’t expect to be stopped, struck in awe of the view of the fortifications in the afternoon light, the ocean waters shimmering against the distant blockade that promised safety and serenity to the drab, artificial canyons of concrete and steel he now called home. 

It had been years since he thought to visit the waters. 

He had forgotten about this little park that overlooked the bay secluded by millennium of fabricated peace. 

“Some sapling from the one in the Citadel,” Noctis explained once Nyx found him. 

Led by quickfire texts and pictures of colourful spring surroundings, Nyx found himself wandering deeper across the grasses and between the flowerbeds. He had passed picnickers and children who had snuck away from classes for the afternoon, all spread out on jackets and blankets, with cheap meals and cheaper drinks spread between them. He had only realised he was on the right track when he spotted Gladio with his book, settled atop a picnic table. The Shield nodded a greeting and waved him towards the garlands of flowers— of wisteria blossoms, dripping from heavy branches— where Noctis had set himself up. 

The tree had grown up a gnarled path from whatever starter it had, assimilating every prop and arch placed to control it until it look just as much a tree as the others around it— as the cherry and plum and apple trees spread across the wooded area of the park— but heavier and more twisted. 

Noctis looked beautiful beneath its flowers. 

He had a lunch spread out in containers already, drinks prepared and waiting, a touch of blizzard magic creeping across the glass bottles in place of a cooler. 

“I like it more than the official gardens.”

“Pretty sure we’d be told to keep off the grass if we tried this in the Citadel.”

“Well, you might, hero.”

The tree was wild compared to the one that towered in the Citadel gardens, clinging to the ancient stonework for support. 

Noctis’ smile was just as wild. As challenging as the thriving tree cut away from the parent fortress. 

“So what is this that you’re feeding me?” Nyx wanted to be glib and dismissive. He wanted to walk through the park to admire the life that had gathered beneath the other trees and among the flowers seeping past the confines of their prepared beds. He wanted to take Noctis’ hand and drag him to watch the water, and the petals dancing across the wild waves rather than in contained fountains. He settled for kissing Noctis first, and peeking at the boxed meal that must have cost more than his salary in a month. “Sushi?”

“Flower sushi.”

Some of the rolls were in the shape of petals— tinged pink by the fish, orange and purple by the roots diced into the mixes. The rice was fragrant, a touch of exotic jasmine Nyx would recognise anywhere worked into the traditional mix, pressed together and held by sheets of nori. Some of the rice was dyed its spring colours, decorating the rolls where traditional methods were too simple. But Nyx was drawn to the petals of salmon— fish sliced thin and wrapped to look like the budding blossoms above, topped with roe and a dollop of whatever sauce there was to taste. A floral change to the tradition of a delicate cut spread across the rice. 

Noctis beamed at the choices, at the offering spread between them— a light soup in covered containers, some carefully wrapped rice balls lined together, a plate of traditional fare unceremonious in its appearance, but the colour and texture of the fish promising fresh flavours. It was a sampling of every spring flavour, colour, and design meant to be traded and shared beneath the shadows of the park. 

Exactly as they had planned. “You going to try some?”

“You’re expecting us to eat all this?”

“I promised leftovers to Prompto, so no.”

The salty breeze tickled the blossoms above them, sending the perfume down in waves as the flowers and branches moved together. Bird cries over the water were lost to the growing groups of people— workers, lovers— wandering the park with their own meals and time and plans to study the blossoms. 

Wandering the Citadel gardens together was intimate— quiet and secluded, without the other picnickers settled ten feet away with their drinks, or Gladio hovering nearby, glancing up to judge that distance. The Citadel wouldn’t have had the people gathering for pictures beneath the arches, friends modelling for each other in playful and cute poses, the breath of fresh spring air driving everyone out to their childish self— to games in the park as the afternoon sun took its lazy time to dip below the cityline to the west. Walking the Citadel paths would have had to wait for nightfall; for when the crowds were ushered out and the lanterns lit on Noctis’ request. Where their movements would have been more obviously tracked, and dinner more carefully arranged, with smaller portions and stricter rules. 

Nyx much preferred the park. Where they could gather up whatever was left after their fill, and hand over to a bemused Gladio to guard. The feast condensed into only a couple of haphazardly arranged boxes, likely to have flavours mixed and fallen apart before they ever reached Prompto as Noctis had promised. He preferred Noctis’ ease with the world out where there were no expectations for him. For them. No cordial rules to follow as the crowd slipped from teenagers to families to adults playing in the grass and flowers in the little speck of green at the edge of the city. 

He walked with Noctis and the bag of their trash, Gladio a friendly shadow offering different accounts of whatever story Noctis was trying to tell until they reached the edge of the park again; where the overlook stretched above the evening markets by the docks, and the dark water was lit by lanterns and Wall. He tied off the bag of trash, their bottles clinking together as he found the bin that wasn’t yet overflowing, and listened as Noctis squirrelled away the leftovers in the Star, as Gladio waved them off again. 

In the distance, the dark waves still rolled against the fortifications of the city, the salt air taking a chill in the dark as the street lights and decorative strands of fairy lights started to glow. Whatever tension he had through the week had slipped away, settled deep when he had spent the afternoon wrapped around Noctis beneath the trees, laughing at the petals clinging to the Lucian black clothes and hair. Teasing soft promises between tastes of exquisite foods, until the only light left was the artificial light of the city itself. He had told Noctis stories of the blossoms and blooms in Galahd, more summery than spring, and with more exotic colours.

Watching the blossoms in Lucis was some form of art— stiff and secluded in the Citadel, or a quiet afternoon on the edges of the sprawling city. To Nyx, it was just another date. He slipped an arm around Noctis and grinned at the face the prince made at the kiss. 

“You’re too fishy for that, hero.”

“You like fish.”

“Not for kissing.”

“I’ll take you to Galahd, little star. And then you’ll know what a real seaside picnic is like.”


End file.
